All I got is this hard rock candy, but it's not for eating. It's just for looking through.
Looks like hell is coming to breakfast, little lady.
They're looking into the sun. I figure that gives him an edge.
Would you rather still be with the Comancheros, Granny?

I gotta hold on to my angst. I preserve it because I need it. It keeps me sharp, on the edge, where I gotta be.